Sometimes I wonder what the point is to this life? What is the point to this suffering? Yes, yes, I know that suffering produces good fruit in our life but in the end we still die and eventually the memory of us fades so, why? Why can't we just get saved and go be with Jesus? Why can't we bypass all this pain? I don't know the answer. I do know though that pain is a great bridge builder to lost and hurting people. It is a golden gateway to their heart.
I have a friend who has led a pretty charmed life. Great parents, great marriage, lot's of money and ease. I am sincerely happy for her and often wish I could just live a year of that life, but.. she is not who I would go to with my pain. It is like speaking a foreign language to her. She doesn't know what to do with it. She squirms and looks for opportunities to get back to the shallow, less painful. I don't want to be that girl.
It is an incredibly satisfying feeling to be able to tell those chemo patients, "I have been where you are". When I share some of my pain from past hurts and struggles, deep depressions and panic attacks, people open their hearts and feel free to share their own pain. In a way that makes my own suffering worth it. Perhaps that is part of the plan. Perhaps that is why we don't get our ticket straight to a life where pain does not exist. Perhaps people need us and our life experiences, painful as they may be.
I know this much is true - I appreciate this life so much more. I see a wonderful world most days. I cherish my friendships and family like never before. I don't care if the toilet paper gets put on the right direction or if my son doesn't do the dishes the first time I ask. My material stuff is just stuff to me now. Yes, I have pain and it shows up at the most inopportune times, in the most unlikely circumstances, and often without warning or announcement. Yes, it is painful and unfair and inconvenient. Yes, I wish it were not so. But, it is what it is and I am who I am because of it. I am a deep well that has been dug out with a pick and a shovel but there is living water in here. I wish it had been easier. I wish happiness did not come at such a price. But I want to be a deep well. I want to be the person who "gets it". I want to be able to lend hope and sooth anxiety and love the broken. Somehow I don't think it is possible to do that well without a good dose of pain and suffering in our own lives. It gives us legitimacy. Embrace it. Suck the lifeblood out of it. Soak it in knowing that it is producing something wonderful in you. If you don't embrace it, it will consume you.
You are so loved, even in this!
My Family
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
I have hope to lend!
About a month ago I began volunteering in the chemo infusion room at Providence hospital. This is a place that became near and dear to my heart while Tom was sick. It is a place that you might think was full of gloom and doom. Certainly heartache is a constant undercurrent here. But, it is really a wonderful place. The nurses are incredible and very caring. There is a camaraderie here like no other.
We were in the trenches together. We ARE in the trenches together. It is work I find extremely satisfying even if all I am doing is handing out warm blankets.
Here is a place where people are desperate for hope. "Pleeeease tell me I will be ok!" Oh how well I know that look. How familiar the despondency. Yes, you will be ok. You may not win this battle but you will be ok. Death need not be scary. There is so much more to this life than this life. I know you don't have hope today but I will let you borrow mine for now.
Yesterday I saw 2 different men with the tell tale scar of Glioblastoma brain cancer. A scar from brain surgery, no hair and the drug Avastin. How familiar. I am often faced with the dilemma of whether to share my story when asked or not. I usually choose to share because people are desperate to hear. However, I am well aware that I am their worst nightmare. We did not win. We did not beat the odds. Somewhere deep in the recesses of their heart they know that they will not beat the odds either. Right now it is an un-winable fight. So, where is the hope?
There is hope because someday, somewhere, someone will beat these odds and it might as well be you. Someday something will work and it might as well be you. There is hope because for every month we keep you alive there is a chance for a new study or new clinical trial. There is hope because a cancer diagnosis, especially a terminal cancer diagnosis, strips away all the un-important crap of our lives. It no longer matters whether he brushes his teeth in a way that drives you nuts or that she continues to nag about the right way to fold a towel. It just no longer matters. This is a gift. The gift of living in today. The gift of now. Sure, it is scary. I have never been so scared in my life. I was facing my worst nightmare. However, I am still here. I was not consumed. I lived and even though Tom did not, he is doing great right now.
So, to the 6th floor chemo patients, please look past the fact that we did not win. Please look past the fact that this may be your fate too. Let me love on you. Let me encourage you that even though you can't see the forest for the trees, there is a forest and for today you can borrow my faith that there will come a day when you look back on all this yuck and you will see beauty.
It is the quiet crucible of your personal, private sufferings that your noblest dreams are born and God's greatest gifts are given.
Wintley Phipps
God continue to give me dreams even as my old ones died. He showed me that my life did not end when Tom's did and that He has a plan for my future. I have hope to lend. When it feels like you can't go on try to remember that there are many of us who have suffered much greater losses and lived to be happy. To thrive. To have hope. I have hope to lend!
We were in the trenches together. We ARE in the trenches together. It is work I find extremely satisfying even if all I am doing is handing out warm blankets.
Here is a place where people are desperate for hope. "Pleeeease tell me I will be ok!" Oh how well I know that look. How familiar the despondency. Yes, you will be ok. You may not win this battle but you will be ok. Death need not be scary. There is so much more to this life than this life. I know you don't have hope today but I will let you borrow mine for now.
Yesterday I saw 2 different men with the tell tale scar of Glioblastoma brain cancer. A scar from brain surgery, no hair and the drug Avastin. How familiar. I am often faced with the dilemma of whether to share my story when asked or not. I usually choose to share because people are desperate to hear. However, I am well aware that I am their worst nightmare. We did not win. We did not beat the odds. Somewhere deep in the recesses of their heart they know that they will not beat the odds either. Right now it is an un-winable fight. So, where is the hope?
There is hope because someday, somewhere, someone will beat these odds and it might as well be you. Someday something will work and it might as well be you. There is hope because for every month we keep you alive there is a chance for a new study or new clinical trial. There is hope because a cancer diagnosis, especially a terminal cancer diagnosis, strips away all the un-important crap of our lives. It no longer matters whether he brushes his teeth in a way that drives you nuts or that she continues to nag about the right way to fold a towel. It just no longer matters. This is a gift. The gift of living in today. The gift of now. Sure, it is scary. I have never been so scared in my life. I was facing my worst nightmare. However, I am still here. I was not consumed. I lived and even though Tom did not, he is doing great right now.
So, to the 6th floor chemo patients, please look past the fact that we did not win. Please look past the fact that this may be your fate too. Let me love on you. Let me encourage you that even though you can't see the forest for the trees, there is a forest and for today you can borrow my faith that there will come a day when you look back on all this yuck and you will see beauty.
It is the quiet crucible of your personal, private sufferings that your noblest dreams are born and God's greatest gifts are given.
Wintley Phipps
God continue to give me dreams even as my old ones died. He showed me that my life did not end when Tom's did and that He has a plan for my future. I have hope to lend. When it feels like you can't go on try to remember that there are many of us who have suffered much greater losses and lived to be happy. To thrive. To have hope. I have hope to lend!
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Sometimes this is just really hard
Last weekend I entered my first quilt to be judged. I had worked long and hard on this quilt, (you can see pictures on my facebook page). I started this quilt as Tom was entering the final leg of his trip home. I was spending 24 hours a day in our room with him so I set up my sewing machine and sewed as he slept. It kept me from complete despair. I sewed and ripped seams and re-sewed for 10 months. Long after Tom had gone home. It felt good to do something happy and productive. At times it got my mind off the total heartache. I call it my grief quilt. I made the quilt FOR show and for judging. Last weekend was my first competition and my hope was to win one first place ribbon. The show was 3 days and my mom and Steve and I had planned on going on Saturday after the ribbons had been hung to see how I did. One of my clients called me from the show and said he was standing in front of the quilt and I had won 4 first place ribbons. Four! No one else had won more than 2. I was thrilled.
When we went to the show I tried to stand around anonymously and just listen to what people were saying. There were fairly large crowds around my quilt. Crowds I did not see at any other quilt. It was a huge high for me. I have not had many highs in the past 3 years so I was relishing the moment.
My facebook account was inundated with congratulations that day.
The next day, Sunday, I completely fell apart. The missing had crept in. Tom was always SO proud of my work. So proud of me. It made me so sad not to be able to share this accomplishment with him. It makes me sad to not be able to share with him about Steve and how happy I feel right now.
It is just such a mixed bag some days. Great happiness mixed with deep sadness. I am trying to just ride the waves and not get too caught in any one place.
Tom was great at enjoying my successes. Going to quilt shows and shops was something he enjoyed with me. Probably because he was so proud of me. This was something I loved about him and something that made many other quilters envious. I was afraid this was something that I would never find again.
If you recall, when we had been told that Tom would not live, I heard God say as plain as day that my future was going to be greater than I could imagine. Well, Steve is just as proud of my accomplishments. He was fascinated with Fabric Depot and I had to drag HIM out of the store. Hmmm, isn't God good. Steve cheers me on and tells everyone how great I am. Isn't God good.
These days I am feeling a bit like I am in the midst of a God storm. A good God storm. So many good things are happening that I would have never dreamed of.
Truly He is a God of redemption. The God of second chances. In our deepest grief, when all seems lost and the dreams have died God promises that Sunday is coming and He will rise again. So much of it has to do with our focus. I choose to focus on the fact that He redeems. He rises again.
Happy Easter all!
When we went to the show I tried to stand around anonymously and just listen to what people were saying. There were fairly large crowds around my quilt. Crowds I did not see at any other quilt. It was a huge high for me. I have not had many highs in the past 3 years so I was relishing the moment.
My facebook account was inundated with congratulations that day.
The next day, Sunday, I completely fell apart. The missing had crept in. Tom was always SO proud of my work. So proud of me. It made me so sad not to be able to share this accomplishment with him. It makes me sad to not be able to share with him about Steve and how happy I feel right now.
It is just such a mixed bag some days. Great happiness mixed with deep sadness. I am trying to just ride the waves and not get too caught in any one place.
Tom was great at enjoying my successes. Going to quilt shows and shops was something he enjoyed with me. Probably because he was so proud of me. This was something I loved about him and something that made many other quilters envious. I was afraid this was something that I would never find again.
If you recall, when we had been told that Tom would not live, I heard God say as plain as day that my future was going to be greater than I could imagine. Well, Steve is just as proud of my accomplishments. He was fascinated with Fabric Depot and I had to drag HIM out of the store. Hmmm, isn't God good. Steve cheers me on and tells everyone how great I am. Isn't God good.
These days I am feeling a bit like I am in the midst of a God storm. A good God storm. So many good things are happening that I would have never dreamed of.
Truly He is a God of redemption. The God of second chances. In our deepest grief, when all seems lost and the dreams have died God promises that Sunday is coming and He will rise again. So much of it has to do with our focus. I choose to focus on the fact that He redeems. He rises again.
Happy Easter all!
Friday, March 23, 2012
The day Tom died
Ok, this is so good I just had to post. Last year on March 14th, his fathers birthday I might add, I woke up a widow. I obviously was not interested in doing my normal reading in Streams In the Desert - a daily devotional. This year I was busy all day that day. But yesterday I decided to read what the devotional was for that particular day. Amazing. Here you go.
Moses approached the thick darkness where God was. Exodus 20:21
God still has His secrets - hidden from "the wise and learned". Luke 10:21 Do not fear these unknown things, but be content to accept the things you cannot understand and to wait patiently. In due time He will reveal the treasures of the unknown to you - the riches of the glory of the mystery. Recognize that the mystery is simply the veil covering God's face. "Do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though some strange thing were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the suffering of Christ" 1 Peter 4:12-13. When you feel the most forsaken and lonely, God is near. He is in the darkest cloud. Forge ahead into the darkness without flinching, knowing that under the shelter of the cloud, God is waiting for you.
A man once stood on a high peak of the Rocky Mountains watching a raging storm below. As he watched, an eagle came up through the clouds and soared away towards the sun. The water on it's wings glistened in the sunlight like diamonds. If not for the storm, the eagle might have remained in the valley. In the same way, the sorrows of life cause us to rise towards God.
(M.e.) Every day we have a choice. We can choose to look to God or look at our circumstances. I can attest to the fact that looking at our circumstances only breeds despair. This life is hard. At times it just plain sucks and much of it is not fair. Or perhaps it is not fair because we can't see past our present concerns. Every day we have a choice. Today I choose life. I choose faith. I choose to believe that God will guide me by a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. I choose to believe that God could take all the heartache from that day and the many months preceding it and use it to drive me to Him.
Choose wisely today. Just for today.
Moses approached the thick darkness where God was. Exodus 20:21
God still has His secrets - hidden from "the wise and learned". Luke 10:21 Do not fear these unknown things, but be content to accept the things you cannot understand and to wait patiently. In due time He will reveal the treasures of the unknown to you - the riches of the glory of the mystery. Recognize that the mystery is simply the veil covering God's face. "Do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though some strange thing were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the suffering of Christ" 1 Peter 4:12-13. When you feel the most forsaken and lonely, God is near. He is in the darkest cloud. Forge ahead into the darkness without flinching, knowing that under the shelter of the cloud, God is waiting for you.
A man once stood on a high peak of the Rocky Mountains watching a raging storm below. As he watched, an eagle came up through the clouds and soared away towards the sun. The water on it's wings glistened in the sunlight like diamonds. If not for the storm, the eagle might have remained in the valley. In the same way, the sorrows of life cause us to rise towards God.
(M.e.) Every day we have a choice. We can choose to look to God or look at our circumstances. I can attest to the fact that looking at our circumstances only breeds despair. This life is hard. At times it just plain sucks and much of it is not fair. Or perhaps it is not fair because we can't see past our present concerns. Every day we have a choice. Today I choose life. I choose faith. I choose to believe that God will guide me by a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. I choose to believe that God could take all the heartache from that day and the many months preceding it and use it to drive me to Him.
Choose wisely today. Just for today.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Am I ever gonna let go?
I am sure by now you are tired of hearing about my need to control. I'm tired of it but obviously not tired enough of it to just give it up! Nope, with white knuckled determination I struggle for security. I struggle for the predictable. For safe. Is this a lesson I will ever learn or will this struggle continue to the end? I hope I learn it but I think part of the issue for us all is that God wants our whole hearts so He continues to allow situations where we MUST trust Him. Truthfully, I make myself miserable with worry. I have a friend who really doesn't worry and I just don't understand that. To not worry is so off my radar that I can't even imagine what that would look like. What would I do with myself if I had no time for worry? ; ) What would I worry about if I did not worry? If I don't worry about all this minuscule stuff then who will? See, I am needed! Of course I am being facetious but it is something I think a lot about.
In December I went to the movies with an old friend of Tom's and mine. A guy friend. The guy friend I alluded to in a previous post. We continued to "non=date", as we called it, for the past few months. I went on those earlier "non-dates" because He felt safe. I had a whole list of reasons why I was not ready to "Date" and of why this guy was safe because I would never marry anyone "like him", whatever that meant. Hmmm, I believe I said that once before when Tom Householder asked me to go for coffee. Coffee was not a real date and he was kind of different so I would never be romantically interested yet I ended up marrying him and being married to him for 30 years. Can you see where this is going?
Steve, that's his name, and I dated for a while before I met Tom but we were both headed in different directions in life so we just sort of drifted apart but remained friends. Because we have maintained a friendship he has been in and out of our lives and my family's lives for the past 33 years. He asked me to the movies because he thought I would be a wreck and might need an outing. He saw it as doing me a favor. Too funny. I went because he was a nice guy who felt very safe but it was very weird to be seen in public with another man no matter what the circumstance. We have continued to "non-date" and now we are dating. I know, we called it non-dating but at some point it crossed over into dating I just would not admit it. Maybe God knew this was the only scenario that would feel safe enough for me to venture out there.
All of that to say, my security issues are bubbling to the surface again. I was just beginning to feel secure as a single person but apparently God wants to keep me on my toes. He promised me my future would be better than I could imagine yet I struggle to let Him write the story. So far what He is writing is an amazing and beautiful story that only God could write, but I continue to want answers and control. It is a daily struggle to let it go and rest in this moment and enjoy this page of the book.
I know this much is true. God is good. He only does good things and He delights in cleaning up life's catastrophe's. He will take what the enemy meant for my harm and turn it into something good and He can be trusted. Maybe I should get a tattoo somewhere where I must look at it several times a day as a reminder that:
He can be trusted.
In December I went to the movies with an old friend of Tom's and mine. A guy friend. The guy friend I alluded to in a previous post. We continued to "non=date", as we called it, for the past few months. I went on those earlier "non-dates" because He felt safe. I had a whole list of reasons why I was not ready to "Date" and of why this guy was safe because I would never marry anyone "like him", whatever that meant. Hmmm, I believe I said that once before when Tom Householder asked me to go for coffee. Coffee was not a real date and he was kind of different so I would never be romantically interested yet I ended up marrying him and being married to him for 30 years. Can you see where this is going?
Steve, that's his name, and I dated for a while before I met Tom but we were both headed in different directions in life so we just sort of drifted apart but remained friends. Because we have maintained a friendship he has been in and out of our lives and my family's lives for the past 33 years. He asked me to the movies because he thought I would be a wreck and might need an outing. He saw it as doing me a favor. Too funny. I went because he was a nice guy who felt very safe but it was very weird to be seen in public with another man no matter what the circumstance. We have continued to "non-date" and now we are dating. I know, we called it non-dating but at some point it crossed over into dating I just would not admit it. Maybe God knew this was the only scenario that would feel safe enough for me to venture out there.
All of that to say, my security issues are bubbling to the surface again. I was just beginning to feel secure as a single person but apparently God wants to keep me on my toes. He promised me my future would be better than I could imagine yet I struggle to let Him write the story. So far what He is writing is an amazing and beautiful story that only God could write, but I continue to want answers and control. It is a daily struggle to let it go and rest in this moment and enjoy this page of the book.
I know this much is true. God is good. He only does good things and He delights in cleaning up life's catastrophe's. He will take what the enemy meant for my harm and turn it into something good and He can be trusted. Maybe I should get a tattoo somewhere where I must look at it several times a day as a reminder that:
He can be trusted.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Hope
What greater thing is there for two human souls,
than to feel that they are joined for life -
to strengthen each other in all labor,
to rest on each other in all sorrow,
to minister to each other in all pain,
to be one with each other
in silent unspeakable memories
at the moment of the last parting?
~ George Eliot
This has been a month of contemplation for me. The one year anniversary of Tom's passing comes on March 14th and my mind reflects on the past 2 1/2 years. Much of that times is foggy in my mind. I have to ask others about the sequence of events or who was present when. I struggle to remember the detail of that day. I rely on my kids and my sister to fill me in.
I awoke at about 2:30 and my room was silent. I laid still and listened and did not hear snoring or even breathing. I propped myself up on one elbow so I could listen with both ears. I did not want to turn the light on. Perhaps if I don't turn the light on it won't be real. Maybe I can just pretend this isn't happening. I dreaded this day.
I turned on the bedside lamp and looked at Tom. He was so still, (not uncommon towards the end). I didn't want to check. Fear, panic, grief took over. I got up and went to him and could not feel a pulse or feel any breath. Damn. Damn that I slept through his final moments. Perhaps that was a gift to me but I vowed to be there till death us do part. Damn this life and this cruel world. Damn, Damn, Damn. I'm sorry but for those of in the trenches sometimes that is just the best word to describe the utter frustration of this life.
Now what? What should I do? I have a house full of sleeping kids and really don't want them to wake up to a house full of strangers nor do I want to leave his side to get them up. I called Tom's sister. "Susan, tell me what to do". God bless her. She told me to call Sara because Sara could get here quicker . Susan lives 45 minutes away but she was on her way. Emily and Kavin were asleep on an airbed in the living room. I didn't want to leave the room so I texted her. She came downstairs knowing. Knowing I would not wake her up in the middle of the night for anything non-critical. Please someone, take over. Tell me what to do here. I remember very little after that. Soon my sister arrived and hospice was called. It fell on Emily, my oldest, to wake the boys and tell them. I'm sorry you had to do that Emily. I am the parent, but I am so grateful you were here. Andrea and Rhys were on their way. I needed someone to take over. I was frozen. I wanted every second of that day to be etched in my memory but I remember so little. I had asked the funeral director (a friend of mine) if at all possible could he do the removal himself. He had a service that morning so it would have to wait until that was over for him to do it himself. I could wait. I wanted to drag this out as long as possible. Don't take him away from me. Please don't take him away. Can't I have just one more lucid day? Just one. Please God, just let him tell me one more time that he loves me and that everything is going to be ok. But it won't be and it wasn't.
I worked in the funeral industry for 10 years so I had some very specific wishes. I wanted to wash him and dress him myself. My one final gift to him. I did not want someone who doesn't love him taking his clothes off. Jordan and I did it ourselves with the help of a hospice nurse. I had bought him a brand new oregon ducks long sleeve shirt. I did not want him to be cold. His dog, Bella, a tiny miniature Doxie would not leave from under his bed so I picked her up and put her on the bed with Tom. She would not go near his face which was very unlike her. She settled in the indent between both legs where she stayed for 7 hours. I never left the room except to help one of the boys who was struggeling. He had already suffered so much loss in his life and that life of loss came crushing in.
My mom came to cook for people and take care of the practicle matters. People would need to be fed more than once that day. I remember them bringing me food but I remember it being a struggle to eat. My dad came to comfort me. He has lost a spouse too. My house was full but I struggle to remember the details.
Nothing can prepare you for the moment they take your loved one away. Nothing. I had very specific ideas about what I wanted even in this. Tom was going to be cremated so I had bought a white quilt for him to be wrapped in. I had made him a quilt that I was going to have him buried in but we had decided upon cremation and I could not bear the idea of his quilt being burned up so I bought a plain white quilt. The kids spent the day huddled on the king size bed writing notes to dad on the quilt. The dogs even left a footprint. I did not want his face covered in my presence. But nothing prepared me for how hard that moment would be when I knew I would never see him again. I can't remember feeling that much pain. It physically hurts. It hurts even to write these words and I have not gotten this down without a good hard cry. I miss that man. He was so whacky. I miss his bursts of laughter. I miss his smack talking with the boys and their friends. I actually miss being woken in the middle of the night by a shaking bed and a laughing husband even as he sleeps.
I feel so blessed to have walked that road with him. Blessed to have been his wife for 30 years. Blessedd to have such great kids who love and look out for their momma. Blessed that God showed up in amazing ways in our darkest hours. Blessed to have friends who would light our way when we could not see through the darkness. Blessed that I am on the climb out of the valley of the shadow of death even when it hurts like it was yesterday.
I am a thankful and blessed woman. I have a rich life. Not the life I envisioned but I cling to the hope that God is true to his word. That my future will be greater than I imagined. I have no idea what that means for me but I hope. And hope is a powerful thing.
Tricia Lott Williford says "I have a PHD in hope."
than to feel that they are joined for life -
to strengthen each other in all labor,
to rest on each other in all sorrow,
to minister to each other in all pain,
to be one with each other
in silent unspeakable memories
at the moment of the last parting?
~ George Eliot
This has been a month of contemplation for me. The one year anniversary of Tom's passing comes on March 14th and my mind reflects on the past 2 1/2 years. Much of that times is foggy in my mind. I have to ask others about the sequence of events or who was present when. I struggle to remember the detail of that day. I rely on my kids and my sister to fill me in.
I awoke at about 2:30 and my room was silent. I laid still and listened and did not hear snoring or even breathing. I propped myself up on one elbow so I could listen with both ears. I did not want to turn the light on. Perhaps if I don't turn the light on it won't be real. Maybe I can just pretend this isn't happening. I dreaded this day.
I turned on the bedside lamp and looked at Tom. He was so still, (not uncommon towards the end). I didn't want to check. Fear, panic, grief took over. I got up and went to him and could not feel a pulse or feel any breath. Damn. Damn that I slept through his final moments. Perhaps that was a gift to me but I vowed to be there till death us do part. Damn this life and this cruel world. Damn, Damn, Damn. I'm sorry but for those of in the trenches sometimes that is just the best word to describe the utter frustration of this life.
Now what? What should I do? I have a house full of sleeping kids and really don't want them to wake up to a house full of strangers nor do I want to leave his side to get them up. I called Tom's sister. "Susan, tell me what to do". God bless her. She told me to call Sara because Sara could get here quicker . Susan lives 45 minutes away but she was on her way. Emily and Kavin were asleep on an airbed in the living room. I didn't want to leave the room so I texted her. She came downstairs knowing. Knowing I would not wake her up in the middle of the night for anything non-critical. Please someone, take over. Tell me what to do here. I remember very little after that. Soon my sister arrived and hospice was called. It fell on Emily, my oldest, to wake the boys and tell them. I'm sorry you had to do that Emily. I am the parent, but I am so grateful you were here. Andrea and Rhys were on their way. I needed someone to take over. I was frozen. I wanted every second of that day to be etched in my memory but I remember so little. I had asked the funeral director (a friend of mine) if at all possible could he do the removal himself. He had a service that morning so it would have to wait until that was over for him to do it himself. I could wait. I wanted to drag this out as long as possible. Don't take him away from me. Please don't take him away. Can't I have just one more lucid day? Just one. Please God, just let him tell me one more time that he loves me and that everything is going to be ok. But it won't be and it wasn't.
I worked in the funeral industry for 10 years so I had some very specific wishes. I wanted to wash him and dress him myself. My one final gift to him. I did not want someone who doesn't love him taking his clothes off. Jordan and I did it ourselves with the help of a hospice nurse. I had bought him a brand new oregon ducks long sleeve shirt. I did not want him to be cold. His dog, Bella, a tiny miniature Doxie would not leave from under his bed so I picked her up and put her on the bed with Tom. She would not go near his face which was very unlike her. She settled in the indent between both legs where she stayed for 7 hours. I never left the room except to help one of the boys who was struggeling. He had already suffered so much loss in his life and that life of loss came crushing in.
My mom came to cook for people and take care of the practicle matters. People would need to be fed more than once that day. I remember them bringing me food but I remember it being a struggle to eat. My dad came to comfort me. He has lost a spouse too. My house was full but I struggle to remember the details.
Nothing can prepare you for the moment they take your loved one away. Nothing. I had very specific ideas about what I wanted even in this. Tom was going to be cremated so I had bought a white quilt for him to be wrapped in. I had made him a quilt that I was going to have him buried in but we had decided upon cremation and I could not bear the idea of his quilt being burned up so I bought a plain white quilt. The kids spent the day huddled on the king size bed writing notes to dad on the quilt. The dogs even left a footprint. I did not want his face covered in my presence. But nothing prepared me for how hard that moment would be when I knew I would never see him again. I can't remember feeling that much pain. It physically hurts. It hurts even to write these words and I have not gotten this down without a good hard cry. I miss that man. He was so whacky. I miss his bursts of laughter. I miss his smack talking with the boys and their friends. I actually miss being woken in the middle of the night by a shaking bed and a laughing husband even as he sleeps.
I feel so blessed to have walked that road with him. Blessed to have been his wife for 30 years. Blessedd to have such great kids who love and look out for their momma. Blessed that God showed up in amazing ways in our darkest hours. Blessed to have friends who would light our way when we could not see through the darkness. Blessed that I am on the climb out of the valley of the shadow of death even when it hurts like it was yesterday.
I am a thankful and blessed woman. I have a rich life. Not the life I envisioned but I cling to the hope that God is true to his word. That my future will be greater than I imagined. I have no idea what that means for me but I hope. And hope is a powerful thing.
Tricia Lott Williford says "I have a PHD in hope."
Friday, February 3, 2012
Vyeing For Control
I would have thought by now my need to control would have been dealt with. I have lived two of the most un-controllable years of my life, yet I still want control. I want to know what is around the next bend so I know if it safe to venture out into the clearing or not. It is much easier to trust when we have a picture of what things will look like. But then, is that really trust?
I made it through my first 5 weeks of school and it has been a huge challenge. I have spent more hours in the math lab than I care to count. I think I am doing pretty well in Algebra and Psychology. Nutrition, not so much. How hard could nutrition be? Well, for starters, this is the teachers first year teaching and she is a registered dietitian not a teacher. She has spent four hours each week reading her Powerpoint out loud to the class. Don't try to have a discussion in class because "we are going to get to that" is her byline. On my first assignment I misread the instructions and only got a C. C!? I do not do C work. Then, we took our midterm yesterday and we were all woefully unprepared for this test. There was so much on the test that we had not gone over in class. Lot's of chemistry and calculations and the pressure was so great that I could not for the life of me remember how to do the calculations. Most of the class was angry after the test at how ill prepared we were and we had all spent a great deal of time studying. AARRGGHH! I am seriously questioning whether I want to spend the next 4 years working this hard. I am unaccustomed to not being really good at what I do.
On another front. I am navigating a relationship with a man. This is a man Tom and I have been friends with for 32 years. We have established and re-established our just friends status but it still difficult for me. I have not done anything alone with another man without Tom being present for 30 years. Marriage is a great insulator. On our second "non-date" I got so anxious I threw up in his car. Thankfully he had a container close by but it was still a humiliating moment. Even though we are just friends. A panic attack in front of others is really hard for me. I find that I am easily conflicted and have a great need to try and control any outcomes. I have no idea where this will lead or if it will ever be anything more than just a friendship. It is definitely a learning experience for me. Who am I without Tom? What do I want for my future? What will that man look like? How does this person or that person fit into my story? Right now the thought of a real date is very scary to me. The thought of someone wanting to hold my hand frightens me much less the thought of kissing someone besides Tom. Thankfully in this situation there is no expectation of that. He knew Tom and does not mind my endless mention of Tom in our conversations. Tom is and always will be a huge part of my life and whomever I find will have to accept that or he is not the right guy for me. But,...I still want to control.
I try to keep in mind what God said to me on the plane back from California when my world came crashing down. the day they told us that yes, Tom would not survive this. I was devastated yet, I heard God say, as if he were sitting on the floor in front of me and holding my face in his hand, "Your future is going to be better than you imagine." I cling to the belief that God has a story to write. I did not die with Tom, although I wanted to. My life will go on and God has MY story to write. I keep wanting to grab his pen but I know all too well that He is much better writer than I. So for now I will once again relinquish my need to control. Once again I will lay this book at His feet and allow Him to write undisturbed and I will anxiously await the next chapter.
I made it through my first 5 weeks of school and it has been a huge challenge. I have spent more hours in the math lab than I care to count. I think I am doing pretty well in Algebra and Psychology. Nutrition, not so much. How hard could nutrition be? Well, for starters, this is the teachers first year teaching and she is a registered dietitian not a teacher. She has spent four hours each week reading her Powerpoint out loud to the class. Don't try to have a discussion in class because "we are going to get to that" is her byline. On my first assignment I misread the instructions and only got a C. C!? I do not do C work. Then, we took our midterm yesterday and we were all woefully unprepared for this test. There was so much on the test that we had not gone over in class. Lot's of chemistry and calculations and the pressure was so great that I could not for the life of me remember how to do the calculations. Most of the class was angry after the test at how ill prepared we were and we had all spent a great deal of time studying. AARRGGHH! I am seriously questioning whether I want to spend the next 4 years working this hard. I am unaccustomed to not being really good at what I do.
On another front. I am navigating a relationship with a man. This is a man Tom and I have been friends with for 32 years. We have established and re-established our just friends status but it still difficult for me. I have not done anything alone with another man without Tom being present for 30 years. Marriage is a great insulator. On our second "non-date" I got so anxious I threw up in his car. Thankfully he had a container close by but it was still a humiliating moment. Even though we are just friends. A panic attack in front of others is really hard for me. I find that I am easily conflicted and have a great need to try and control any outcomes. I have no idea where this will lead or if it will ever be anything more than just a friendship. It is definitely a learning experience for me. Who am I without Tom? What do I want for my future? What will that man look like? How does this person or that person fit into my story? Right now the thought of a real date is very scary to me. The thought of someone wanting to hold my hand frightens me much less the thought of kissing someone besides Tom. Thankfully in this situation there is no expectation of that. He knew Tom and does not mind my endless mention of Tom in our conversations. Tom is and always will be a huge part of my life and whomever I find will have to accept that or he is not the right guy for me. But,...I still want to control.
I try to keep in mind what God said to me on the plane back from California when my world came crashing down. the day they told us that yes, Tom would not survive this. I was devastated yet, I heard God say, as if he were sitting on the floor in front of me and holding my face in his hand, "Your future is going to be better than you imagine." I cling to the belief that God has a story to write. I did not die with Tom, although I wanted to. My life will go on and God has MY story to write. I keep wanting to grab his pen but I know all too well that He is much better writer than I. So for now I will once again relinquish my need to control. Once again I will lay this book at His feet and allow Him to write undisturbed and I will anxiously await the next chapter.
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